If you’ve visited my house one of the first things that greeted you was a giant prickly pear. When we sold our old house in 2007 I took two paddles and put them in a pot with some dirt. They sat on my Mom and Dad’s back porch for 4 months, then spent an entire winter shoved into the back of our new shed. I planted it sometime that summer.
To say it thrived was an understatement. It grew into a lovely specimen.
2011 xeriscaping
But then it kept growing. It started making it difficult to get into the house and needed constant pruning. It was like a friend who was clingy, always wanting to play with your hair.
2014 yard remodel
It was impressive in a “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a prickly pear that tall before” way. But not in a “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a prickly pear that beautiful before”. So Julie and I decided today that the time had come. As part of our spring cleaning we took it out.
It has provided some lovely landscaping beams, however.
So what next? We don’t know. I’d love to hear any and all ideas.
I try to keep my ranting in other blogs. But every piece of gardening feels like such a political activity that I don’t really know why I try. Here’s a great thread from Austin City Council Member Gregorio Casar on the intersection of immigration and Monarch butterflies.
Immigrant rights activists adopted the butterfly as a symbol of the natural and normal process of migration. The fact that a racist border wall would rip through and destroy a butterfly refuge is a bitter allegory that cannot be lost on us. https://t.co/5OMyLyAidn
The Monarch migrates annually from as far as Canada to Mexico, and back again. It can take several generations for these butterflies to migrate that distance. It’s use by activists forces all of us to consider the question “What is a border to a butterfly?”
As Trump continues to lash out at a manufactured enemy, we cannot forget the very real impact its construction will have on people and on creation more broadly. Many thanks to @TexasObserver and @bova_gus for continuing to shine light on these impacts.
I had a wonderful time at a solstice party last night, and what better way to celebrate the return of longer days than to spend several hours out wedding with the dogs. The weather was lovely. The weeds were bountiful, and I got many kisses from the dogs.
Recently two friends of mine got married in my backyard. The rains were dicey and only ended about 10 minutes before the wedding started, but everything could not have looked more beautiful.
That said, I planted a row of Fall Aster along the edge of the flowerbed. The plants were full of buds. Everything looked ready to fall into line. And they bloomed a week after the wedding. Plants, they care about seasons and sunlight and nothing for what we have going on in our lives.
In any case, they’re looking fantastic right now and I’m really enjoying them.
We’re hosting a wedding in our backyard in a couple weeks. One of the things that I felt was most in need of attention was our shed. It was still the same ugly gun metal gray as when we bought our house. The shed is in the original renderings of our house and I think the paint might be original as well. It was in rough shape.
In trying to think of a picture to illustrate the before-and-after I was thinking of this picture of when the kids were small.
In my memory the shed was so dominant and ugly. It is clearly not as dominant or ugly as I remember. Just the only thing in the picture that isn’t completely lovely. In any case we decided to recreate the picture.
Most of the trees in the first photo are gone, and new trees have taken their place. The kids are bigger. . And you still don’t really notice the shed.
So here’s the before:
And the after with one of my helpers.
We plan to eventually paint the trim white, but we’ll see if that project ever happens. Maybe in another decade…